The smoky mist is wide and deep,
The wind’s a child awake from sleep;
A mother bear with baby cubs,
I watch in love through tangled shrubs.
 
Now wandering, I chase the clouds
Up here, away from city crowds,
But still I think of you that day,
Your eyes a lake, the moon at play.

Forty years old, I’ve sinned
With this cup of wine,
To wander in the wind
On a path without a sign.
 
Looking up to the mountain top,
With hints of blossoms laid,
I ponder this life I’ll swap
For some quiet beneath the shade.

This morning the sky imparted its will
On spring, on summer, when all around
Is rain and mist, and darkness still,
Distilled for a moment in the river’s sound.
 
These years I’ve buried my head in books
Have come and gone with the green dawn air;
Last night I walked by the brimming brooks
And left a song as I passed on there.  

At the southern edge, around a turn,
The earth is filled by a sea of white;
The day has passed, but I haven’t returned
From this gardenia trance, both scent and sight.
 
 
Original Chinese poem by Zhang Hu
 

Around the building throughout the day,
These joyful guests convene on beams
With songs that carry auspicious signs,
Arriving through the curtained screens.
 
Sunset guides them down to town for rest,
But dawn will draw them to the river streams,
Until they reach the swans assembled together,
Watching them soar, as in a phoenix dream.
 
 
Original Chinese poem by Li Jiao
 

Hugging the path in early spring
We walk here hand in hand;
Though grass has yet to spring to life,
To me it’s fresh-laid land.
 
Nothing to do, pursuing the blooms,
The willows have taught my mind:
Again and again I come and go
To savor a cup of wine.
 
 
Original poem in Chinese by Shen Yue

The River Chu has split the hills in two
To send the jade-brushed water east and back,
Around the two opposing hills anew
As a lonely boat sits still in a sunlit crack.
 
 
Original Chinese poem by Li Bai